I don’t dream of tsunamis…

I don’t dream of tsunamis, or

Giant storm waves crashing against a shore.


I dream of gentle high-tides.

Small, rounded dollops of water

Each time rising a little higher

Until they over-top the beach and find

Their way, easily, now-down-hill. Or

Lapping against windows, letting the light in.


These waters are appealing, inviting

As they say at the shore, “The water’s fine!”

The day, quiet, serene, still.

The light soft, diffused, like a

Clearing sunset after a late Spring rain.


The water has weight, but not the weight

Of immensity…. It’s like the weight of a body,

Sleepy, insinuating…, like sharing a bed

With a lover. The water comes and comes.




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